


Forgive Me, Friend

by Ahelpfulpeach



Series: She-Ra Canon Universe Stories [8]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Forgiveness, POV Catra (She-Ra), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahelpfulpeach/pseuds/Ahelpfulpeach
Summary: "“Don’t say it’s fine!” Catra knew she had no right to the pain in her chest. Mermista, Glimmer, Bow, the other rebels, the rest of fucking Etheria had a right to it. She’d hurt them. This was just weakness. Self pity."
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: She-Ra Canon Universe Stories [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763977
Comments: 42
Kudos: 338





	Forgive Me, Friend

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone keeping track of the timeline for this series, this takes place about one month after the finale, not long after Mothers Be Good To Your Daughters
> 
> Apologies are difficult, messy things sometimes, and I did my best to handle this with as much grace as I could, while still remaining in the character's heads and remaining true to the love they have for each other.

All things said and done, Catra knew she had no right to be upset. Bow hadn’t meant anything by it, she knew that. Sure, he was uncomfortably chummy and would tease her from time to time, but the guy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He’d been talking plans, lamenting that Sea Hawk—and Mermista, he belatedly had added—might not be able to join in because of the extensive damage to Salineas. The damage she’d caused.

Logistics. It was only logistics.

But Melog was cowering and Catra could feel her pulse racing, and she knew it was only a matter of time-

“Catra?” Bow’s voice. Concerned. Catra’s eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, a safe place, Adora, anything to avoid this conversation, to calm herself. But Adora had left with her weird horse and Entrapta that morning, working on some map project Entrapta seemed all too excited about. And she was here. Alone.

“I’m sorry,” Catra’s voice came out as barely a whisper.

Bow and Glimmer exchanged a look, confusion, then dawning realization plain on their faces. Clearly they weren’t used to having these silent conversations in front of others. They’d be better at masking their thoughts.

“Catra, you already apologized to Mermista, it’s-” Catra couldn’t listen, couldn’t hear his platitudes.

“Don’t say it’s fine!” Catra knew she had no right to the pain in her chest. Mermista, Glimmer, Bow, the other rebels, the rest of fucking Etheria had a right to it. She’d hurt them. This was just weakness. Self pity.

“I wasn’t going to,” he continued, quiet, “I was just going to say it’s in the past. And that you’ve been a part of the relief efforts, it’s not like you’re not doing anything.”

Catra stood, every muscle in her body tense. She needed to move. She didn’t deserve the anger, the frustration, the emotions; this was _her fault_. She paced back and forth by the table, Melog falling into step beside her.

“It’s not enough! Don’t you get that?” Her whole body was quivering, claws unsheathed. She hated this. Hated herself. She wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not this weak, not in front of them.

Bow opened his mouth to spew more baseless comfort, and Catra bristled. She hated it. And she hated she was so upset. In his soft, caring way, he was trying to help. He’d been nothing but kind since Catra had joined them, and part of her wanted to hurt him, just so he’d act _normal_ and be mad like he should be.

But Glimmer put a hand on his wrist, stopping him, all while pinning Catra with a look she’d seen on Adora’s face too many times. Stubborn, ready and willing to fight to get her to talk.

“I’ll be back later. Catra, come on.” Her tone offered no room for argument, nor did the grasp around Catra’s wrist.

Then suddenly, they weren’t in Glimmer’s room, crouched over a table full of plans and proposals. Catra caught herself on the railing of the balcony, not quite needing the support after teleporting anymore, but it offered a convenient way to step out of Glimmer’s space and take in the area. They were on part of the roof of the castle, she realized, a small, circular platform that, as far as she could tell, one would need to either teleport or fly to reach.

A place with no exit for her.

Resigned, Catra slumped against the railing, head in her hands.

“Alright. You’ve got me trapped, now what?”

“Wha- oh. Shit. I didn’t think about that.” Glimmer’s voice got closer, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Queen settle against the railing as well. Close enough to touch, but not bridging that gap. Giving Catra the space she needed.

“Weren’t trying for a captive audience?” Catra quipped, no real humor in her tone.

Glimmer shook her head, sighing, “Adora told me a couple times that you guys would hang out on the roof when you were kids. I was hoping it would help, you know, make you more comfortable.”

Oh.

“She talked about that stuff?” Catra knew she was only prolonging the inevitable, but the question burned all the same.

“Yeah. She didn’t talk about the Fright Zone much, but when she did, it was usually about you. At our sleepovers, she’d sometimes just start rambling about something funny you did or said one time,” Glimmer offered a little smile, “She missed you, even if she couldn’t say it that plainly. I think she wanted to keep those happy memories of you alive somehow.”

Well. What was she supposed to say to that? Catra turned away, sinking to the ground to sit, her gut twisting with guilt. Adora, even back then, had given her love and thought she didn’t deserve.

“Nothing I can do is going to be enough to fix things,” Catra murmured, “I don’t get how you guys can look at me, much less be _nice_. I can’t even look at myself. I should be in a dungeon or something, not lounging on fluffy beds and eating off silver platters.”

“You’re right, sort of. I get it,” Glimmer settled against Catra’s back, something almost comforting about the contact, “We can’t erase what we did with what we’re doing now. It doesn’t work like that. They’re both going to exist, and we’re stuck with impacts of it.”

Catra bristled, “We’re different, Sparkles. You fucked up, don’t get me wrong, but you did one monumental fuck up for an ultimately good cause. Didn’t work, but you tried. I… I had a lot of fuck ups. Too many. And I _wanted_ to hurt people.” To hurt Adora, mostly. To make her feel the pain she did. Even now, Catra wasn’t sure if she did it to drive her away or to try to make her _understand_. The fight had been knocked out of her, mostly, by that stupid, weak part of her that wanted the comfort she didn’t deserve.

“You think that came out of nowhere?” There was anger in Glimmer’s voice, a familiar sort of self-directed fury, “Catra, I hurt my friends long before then. Bow and Adora especially. I… I blamed Adora for my mom’s death. I manipulated them both, ordered them around, put them in danger. I hate thinking about it. I hate myself for doing it.” Catra could feel her own shoulders shaking, though she couldn’t quite tell if the motion originated in her or Glimmer.

A shrug was all Catra could offer. It still felt different. She needed to be punished, to what end though, she wasn’t sure. To give the people she’d hurt some sort of resolution? To absolve herself through penance? In some ways, Catra had been doing that, she knew that, working on re-construction, working on herself. It was something. It just-

“It still doesn’t feel like enough.” Even as she did what people asked, Catra still felt awful. Mermista had more or less told her straight away what she’d wanted: help rebuilding her kingdom. Perfuma assured her fairly often she just wanted her to keep ‘growing and healing and letting love in,’ which was nauseating, but also just very… _her_. Scorpia had just wanted to talk, to have a chance to explain her feelings, what had hurt her, which honestly had been the most painful apology yet.

“I get it. But it’s not really… about you. Or me. Or whoever is apologizing, you know? It’s about what they need,” Glimmer’s hand on her own was an unwelcome comfort, “But I… it hurts, knowing you hurt people you care about, so _fucking_ much, and it keeps hurting as you get better at caring about them because you can see what you did wrong more clearly. And it helps to know they forgive you, and that they’re happy with the efforts you’re making. But to know that stuff, you have to actually _talk_ to them.”

Catra stayed silent, stiff under Glimmer’s hand, but not pulling away.

“Have you talked to Adora about all this?”

All Catra could do was shake her head. She’d apologized before, but Adora had always been quick to assure her that she was forgiven, that it was in the past. They hadn’t really sat down and… _talked_ about what happened.

“It’s gonna be awful. Like, it’ll hurt a lot, I know it did for me. Probably will hurt for both of you. But I really think it’d be good for you guys. Definitely better than worrying that someone secretly resents you.”

Again, it wasn’t like Catra could argue. She knew it was probably true. But she and Adora… they’d always been great at avoiding necessary conversations. It happened, and it wouldn’t ever be brought up again. It was how they operated, how they _survived,_ for years.

“I’ll try.”

A squeeze. Catra turned her hand, squeezed back.

“I think I like these talks better when we don’t fight first,” Glimmer said, a little smile in her voice.

“Speak for yourself, I get off on getting beat up,” Catra laughed as an elbow connected with her side, “Geez, alright, could’ve just _said_ you were in the mood.”

“You’re a fucking mess.”

“...Thanks though, Sparkles.”

Glimmer only replied with another squeeze, and suddenly they were back inside the castle.

“Good luck.”

Right. Yeah. She was going to need it.

It was twilight when Adora finally returned to her room, all smiles and windblown hair and flushed—probably burnt—skin. There was a quiet moment when blue eyes met blue and yellow, and Catra was overwhelmed by how much warmth— _love_ , that somewhat newly discovered, incredibly stubborn, utterly enamored part of her insisted—and joy she found there.

That brilliant smile faltered as she stepped closer, as Catra had expected. She knew what she looked like, tear stained and red-eyed and small. And there was the concern, painfully amplified in the privacy and safety of Adora’s room. So little reason to mask it here.

“Catra, what’s wrong?” Adora crossed the room in long strides, only just short of running to her side. Catra couldn’t do this wrapped in her arms, able to feel every twitch of muscle, every reaction, so as Adora reached the bed, she grabbed her hands.

“Adora, please just. Sit. And listen for a second.” Adora’s brow furrowed, clearly confused, but she sat anyway, didn’t speak, only held her hands, her thumbs starting to rub little circles into them.

A deep breath.

“I want to apologize, Adora. For real. I want to talk about what happened, what I did. I’m trying really _really_ hard to be better, and I just… I know I hurt you. I was intentional about it, I wanted you to hurt, and it was wrong and I am so sorry,” tears were pouring down her cheeks again, “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to tiptoe around me. I couldn’t ever be upset with you if you’re still mad or hurting or anything, I just want you to be able to… to talk about it. And other stuff you’re dealing with. With me.”

The words didn’t come naturally. Honestly, every instinct said to leave well enough alone. But… she loved Adora. And if talking would help, if she could be a support, then fuck it, she’d try.

True to form, Adora stepped back into comforting mode, “I’ve already forgiven you, Catra, you know that right? I- It happened. But you’re doing _so_ well now-”

“Adora.”

Adora paused, her eyes watery.

“I can take it,” squeezing Adora’s hands, Catra forced herself to keep looking into her eyes, “It kills me that I hurt you, but knowing you’re scared to talk about it with me hurts worse.”

Adora was quiet for a moment, staring at their intertwined hands. Finally, voice breaking, crying, she spoke, “I… Catra. I missed you so much. I couldn’t- it hurt to think of you as my enemy. I had hope I could convince you to join the Rebellion, and I couldn’t let that go. And it made everything you said and did hurt worse. I loved you, Catra, even back then. And for so long I was so scared I’d lost you forever. I _mourned_ you.”

Catra leaned into Adora’s hand as she cradled her face, aching for her, for them both, for the scared kids they’d been.

Adora’s grip on her hand was bruising, like she was still scared Catra might slip through her fingers. Catra squeezed just as hard. She wasn’t going anywhere, not again.

“And I forgive you. Already forgave you. For all of it. You’ve always meant the world to me, Catra, and the fact that you care enough to regret it, to try to do better, it's everything I could have asked for.”

When Adora opened her arms, Catra sunk into them, sobbing. She didn’t deserve this, not after-

“Thank you,” Adora’s voice was a whisper, a whimper. She was clinging tightly, shaking just as hard as Catra was, just quieter. For the life of her, Catra could not even begin to fathom what Adora was talking about, so she just tightened her own embrace, hoping maybe Adora got as much comfort out of it as she did.

“Thank you for staying,” Adora could barely get the words out, but when she did, Catra’s stomach dropped. All the times she’d run off, angry about Adora saying one thing or another, something she’d taken to mean Adora was upset with her, that she didn’t want her around, came flooding back. No fucking wonder she hadn’t wanted to talk when it might jeopardize this. When Catra had only just come back.

“I’m not going to leave,” Catra had to bite back a snarl. She wasn’t mad at Adora, but she was _furious_ with herself.

“I’m staying. As long as you want me here, I’m staying. And Adora, I’m sorry for all the times I ran off or shut down, I didn’t… I didn’t know what to do with everything I felt then, I still don’t, really. But I want to support you, the way you’ve always supported me, and I want to make it up to you.” Every word spoken felt like coals on her tongue, but Catra didn’t care. In that moment, she’d be as open as she had to be to make this as right as she could.

For once, Adora didn’t respond, didn’t try to make things okay or soothe or shoulder everything herself. She just tucked her face into Catra’s shoulder and sobbed for real, loud, every ounce of bottled up anguish finally let loose. Catra was reeling, with heartache for Adora being in so much pain, with guilt for causing it, with relief and wonder that she still, somehow, was seeking comfort in _her_ arms.

They stayed like that, Adora’s hands fisted into Catra’s shirt, Catra holding her as tightly as she could, long enough that the light outside had disappeared by the time Adora’s cries trailed off into exhausted little gasps. At that point, Catra nudged her, gently, to lay down, to rest, feeling so utterly helpless in the face of so much raw emotion. Adora went easily, as soon as Catra came down with her anyway, as she still refused to let go.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me,” Adora’s voice was wrecked, but there was a shaky smile on her face, lighting up those tear-reddened eyes, “I have one request: please stop hurting the woman I love because of things she can’t change when she’s already working on what she can. Stop telling her she doesn’t deserve to be loved.”

If she’d had any tears left, Catra knew she’d be crying. As it was she could only choke out a weak laugh, pressing her forehead to Adora’s.

“I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Adora murmured, arms still wrapped tight around her, even as her eyelids drooped, “I do love you, you know that, right? And that I’m proud of you?”

Knew it, yes. Whether or not she could fully believe it was another matter, but not one for right then, not when Adora looked ready to pass out.

“Yeah. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Forgive Me Friend" by Smith & Thell and Swedish Jam Factory  
> and holy shit I had my music on shuffle please listen to "Try" by Simple Plan with this fic it works SO WELL
> 
> Anyway, this is a fun exercise in comparison with the last thing I published
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed! If you're on there, I'm also very active on Tumblr @ahelpfulpeach.


End file.
